


I Will Bury You

by katjh



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Multi, Shovel Talk, winter soldier spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-20 19:14:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1522439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katjh/pseuds/katjh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>WINTER SOLDIER AND AGENTS OF SHIELD SPOILERS.</p><p>For this prompt: http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/17613.html?thread=40260045#t40260045</p><p>Natasha and Bucky have an understanding. If one of them tries to kill or betray Steve, the other will take deadly action. And naturally, no one's going to find out about this agreement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"You love him," Natasha said bluntly, not even looking up from the book she held in her hands.

Bucky almost choked on his jello. "What?"

Natasha bookmarked the page and leaned forward. "It's in the way you look at him. I know, Yasha."

Bucky wished he wasn't stuck in a hospital bed so he could just run away and deny his feelings, but that wasn't an option. "It's not important," he muttered, and stabbed at his jello again.

"Please," Natasha said, rolling her eyes. "It's not like Steve doesn't return your feelings."

She almost didn't hear Bucky mumble, "You guys are happy together."

"Idiot," she said, dropping the book on the bed. "We'd be happier with you joining us. Both of us. If, of course, you think you could bear to be involved with me," she ended teasingly. It was no secret that they had been involved back when Natasha was Natalia and Bucky was the Winter Soldier. Those were some of the few pleasant memories they shared from the Red Room.

Bucky glanced up to see the sultry gaze Natasha was sending him. "I think I could suffer through that," he said.

"Good," said Natasha. She smiled, but it was predatory. In a flash, she had a switchblade in her hand and she stabbed it into the apple on Bucky's lunch tray. "But," she went on, pulling the apple off with her free hand, "if you _ever_ kill Steve, I don't care how much I love you, how often you've saved his life or mine, or any of our history." She had begun to peel the apple with the blade, the skin coming off in one complete spiral. "I will hunt you down, and your life will be drastically shortened in the most painful ways I can imagine." She dropped the peel on the tray, then placed the apple on top of it. "And you do recall I have a very _powerful_ imagination."

Bucky eyed the sharp edge of the knife as Natasha licked the apple juice from it. Then he reached for the apple with his metal hand and said, "And if SHIELD says Steve needs to be killed and you help them, Natasha..." He closed his fingers around the apple and crushed it. Juice dripped down onto the tray. "I can assure you, I will still love you, but I will kill you all the same."

They met each other's eyes and nodded.

"Bucky, what did you do?" Steve asked as he came back from the bathroom, noticing the completely destroyed apple.

Bucky shrugged. "Didn't want an apple today," he said, wiping his fingers on the napkin provided.

"Did you really have to make such a mess?" Steve sighed and shook his head.

Natasha just smiled in amusement and picked up her book.  "Shall I continue reading Hoc, Bucky?" she asked. Bucky nodded, and she began reading in Russian. Steve didn't have a good grasp of Russian; he'd picked up conversational German back in the war, but knew only a few Russian words. Still, he was certain he heard the word for "major" and "nose" in there, and the cover of the book said "Gogol". He shrugged and listened simply to the language and to Bucky's quiet laugh as the story went on.

 

Natasha voiced the idea while Steve was showering, and he nearly slipped and fell.

"You want Bucky to join us," he repeated, wiping shampoo from his eyes.

Natasha spat out a mouthful of toothpaste. "Don't pretend you don't want him," she said. "And don't say I'm the only woman for you. I  _know_ that. Bucky's a man. He's very handsome, we've fucked before, and I'd like for him to regularly be involved in our relationship."

"The three of us." Steve turned off the shower and reached for a towel. The one hanging on the hook was still damp from when Natasha had used it to dry off, but Steve didn't mind.

"Yes. Come on, Rogers, it'll be fun. Bucky's already fine with it," Natasha added, glancing back at Steve.

"All right."

 

Just like that, it all happened. It was tense at first, but Steve was under the impression that this sort of relationship, where each member had history with each other and weren't entirely sure how the chemistry would work out under this new situation, would always begin with tension. Bucky definitely began to ease up around Steve the longer they were together, and there was no denying that Bucky and Natasha were always  _fantastic_ when they fucked and let Steve watch. Bucky was rough where Steve wasn't, and he'd moan in guttural Russian as he fucked into Natasha. And Natasha could be dominating when she wanted to be, forcing Bucky to eat her out while she murmured things in Russian that Steve figured were praises and encouragement. And when they all fucked together, whether Natasha was taking them both or Bucky needed to be fucked hard by Steve while Natasha sank down onto his cock, it was electric. Steve had rarely had such mind-blowing sex – and he and Natasha had been hooking up for a few months before Bucky joined them. On nights when one of them didn't feel like sex, or was too sore from hero duties or the night before, watching the other two was often an option. It worked in a beautiful messy way, even when Bucky woke up screaming from nightmares or Steve couldn't fall asleep  _again_ or Natasha would come awake all at once and lie there frozen, not moving, not speaking. They offered each other comfort and understanding that no one else had the ability to. Steve knew how it felt to be a man out of time, and Natasha knew what it was to have your brain taken apart and put back together in just this way, and Bucky knew these both.

 

There were still glances that Natasha and Bucky shared, barely perceptible nods, signs of mutual understanding. Steve wondered about that,  if they were simply tolerating each other because they thought it made him happy. But then he'd see how they loved each other, how Natasha read Russian children's stories to Bucky or how Bucky would put on some music and do the lifts for Natasha's dance routines. There was some other secret, something only they understood, that was between them.

And really, Steve was fine with that. Because he and Bucky had a few inside jokes from the old days, and they'd spend time looking at the New York skyline and trying to remember what it looked like back in the day. They liked to go to museums together, and spend hours and hours on Netflix just catching up on all they'd missed. Natasha would shake her head once she found out that Steve and Bucky had been marathoning all of  _Friends_ one Saturday afternoon.

 

And despite SHIELD's topple, they were still Avengers. Their group was a little different: Tony had gotten rid of his arc reactor in his chest, and Sam and Bucky had joined them. Natasha and Clint were no longer SHIELD agents. In fact, Clint had completely gone off the radar for a while, and finally reappeared when he took out a Russian crime organization in Bed-Stuy of all places. Thor was in Asgard most of the time, but Bruce was working with Tony.

 

The world was still a place full of villains, especially since SHIELD's prison for the most dangerous individuals had been completely ransacked and the prisoners set free. HYDRA was out there again.

 

Which meant, of course, that the Avengers were on high alert.

 

And that's where it all went to shit.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was going to happen eventually. Even the best kept secrets, all spies could attest, would get out.

"Do you see him? Hawkeye, anything?" Steve asked urgently, scanning the wreckage.

"Negative, Cap."

"Still looking," Tony said, diving in amongst the rubble. The building had only partially collapsed, and Bucky was nowhere to be found.

"Last known location was about thirty yards to Thor's right," Clint said. He rappelled down from the rooftop he'd taken position on to join the search on the ground. "He shouldn't have been hit too hard."

Natasha stepped delicately over chunks of broken building. Blood dripped from a cut above her eyebrow, but she was more concerned with her missing teammate. "No sign of him over here," she said.

"Widow, you need medical attention," Steve said sternly, grabbing Natasha's arm. She didn't bother to jerk out of Steve's grip, just turned wearily and let Bruce, who had shrunken down and was now covered in dust and wearing a t-shirt and athletic shorts, escort her to the medical van on standby.

"He should have been right about here," Tony said, landing on some of the rubble. It shifted underneath him and he rose up again quickly. "JARVIS, scan for any lifeforms." He paused, then added, "And for that awesome metal arm of his. Just in case."

Steve sat down on what had once been a decorative gargoyle and pulled off his cowl. There was a blur of motion, and then Steve was on his back, red staining the front of his uniform, and Bucky stood over him. Steve stared up blearily, vision blurring and ears full of noise. Bucky's face was blank, his eyes hard, and he held a knife in his metal hand, ready to strike.

And then suddenly, he fell. Clint stood behind him with a tranq gun and an apologetic expression on his face.

"Let me at him," Natasha yelled, before being restrained by the medics. It all seemed to be echoing in Steve's ears. His eyes were so heavy, and shadowy shapes surrounded him. He thought he saw Thor bending down to pick up Bucky.

"Don't hurt him," Steve said, or tried to say. He wasn't sure he managed to get the words out.

 

 

Steve awoke in a hospital bed. His midsection was bandaged heavily and an IV ran from a pole into one arm. His head was pounding, but otherwise he felt... Almost all right.

And confused. Bucky had attacked him. He slowly sat up, the ache in his abdomen making itself known again, but he ignored it.

"Docs say you'll be all right by tomorrow."

Steve turned his head slowly. Dizziness struck him, but he blinked heavily. Clint stood in the doorway, muscular arms crossed over his chest. Steve cleared his throat. "Is—"

Clint sighed and walked in. "Bucky's in custody in a medical ward, and Nat's... Very upset. Buck's in there for his own safety as well as your own."

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, pushing himself up straighter in the bed. "His own safety?"

Clint fiddled with the hem of his shirt. "You don't know." It wasn't phrased as a question, simply a statement of fact. He leaned against the foot of the hospital bed and gripped it tightly with both hands. "Nat went after him. They had to lock her up too, and that's no easy feat." Clint looked up to meet Steve's eyes. "They don't think she got reprogrammed like Bucky though."

"Reprogrammed?" Steve reached for the IV and was surprised at how quickly Clint moved to close his hand over the needle in Steve's arm to keep him from pulling it out.

"Yeah, that's... What we pieced together, right, is that the building collapsing was just a distraction." Clint loosened his grip on Steve's arm. "Bucky got knocked out for only a few seconds, but it was enough to, I dunno, say a trigger word or something, and the Soldier's brain just, it took over." He scratched his head. "That's why he attacked you. Medical's trying to work it out."

Steve kicked the thin hospital blankets aside. "I have to go see him," he said. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and grimaced when the movement pulled at the muscles in his abdomen.

Clint ran his palm over his face. "You're at least as stubborn as I am. Okay, fuck, can I at least grab a wheelchair for you? Nat's gonna have my ass if you tear the stitches."

Steve gripped the IV pole tightly. "Grab it fast. And where's Natasha? I want her with us when Bucky... When he wakes up Bucky."

 

 

The heated argument in Russian roused Steve. He had been sleeping in the wheelchair, having sat at the observation window for several hours waiting for Bucky to wake up again. There wasn't much to see; the doctors had mostly hidden Bucky from view while they did whatever it was to bring Bucky back from his Winter Soldier programming.

And now he could hear Natasha shouting and Clint trying to reply in a level voice, his Russian slightly accented.

"What's," Steve croaked the word out, so he cleared his throat and wheeled himself around the corner, wincing as the needle from the IV pulled and he realized he'd left the pole back there. "What's going on?" he asked harshly.

The two assassins turned to him. Natasha spat something in Russian and Clint made a face.

"We're having a disagreement," Clint said. "Over an arrangement they made. Fucking Russians." He shot a disgusted look at Natasha before walking away.

Steve frowned, and a furrow appeared between his brows that Natasha leaned down to kiss away.

"It's bullshit," Natasha said reassuringly, and she walked around to the back of the wheelchair to bring Steve back to the observation window.

 

Bucky awoke only a few hours later, eyes clear and expression broken. He knew what he'd done.

"I'm so sorry," he sobbed out. He wouldn't look at Steve.

"It's not your fault," Steve said, putting one hand on Bucky's ankle. Bucky flinched. "Bucky, really, it wasn't you. Don't blame yourself."

Bucky glanced at Natasha and said something in Russian. Her eyes flickered over to Steve.

"Okay, no, stop," Steve said. He leaned back and crossed his arms. "Stop bullshitting. I know what this is, guys."

Neither of the assassins surrendered their poker faces. There was nothing in their expressions to give anything away.

"Steve, we have shared experiences," Bucky said.

Steve sighed. "I don't speak much Russian, but I know a few words. And I know about your little deal. Honestly..." He looked away, then seemed to gain confidence and fixed them both with a severe look. "Honestly, I think it's a problem. I trust the both of you with my life. Why can't you trust each other? Why do you insist on making such a... A _stupid_ agreement, that'll leave us all broken or dead?" His eyes shone with tears, but he didn't make a move to wipe them away.

Both looked suitably ashamed, and neither said a word. The silence went on for a painfully long time, before Steve settled back in his wheelchair and mumbled, "I know... I know you meant it for the best. I just, I want it possible for all of us to be together and to trust each other. I don't know if that can happen." He untaped the IV from his arm, pulled it out, and stood up. He walked out of the room wordlessly, leaving the two assassins behind in an uneasy, maybe temporarily peaceful, silence.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, not a happy ending, but read it as a hopeful one. I'd love to revisit this and add a little more, like maybe a proper resolution with a happy ending, but we'll have to see what the reaction to this is. ;) I never said I was a kind author.
> 
> This was definitely enjoyable to write, despite me being really busy and pulling my hair out over real life things. I don't feel I'd be able to tell the rest of the story with the ability it deserves as of this moment, but don't consider this fic to be done and over with. Far from it.

**Author's Note:**

> The Nose. Gogol. Read it.


End file.
